


lovely

by addictedtoacertainlifestyle



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Insecurity, Multi, Soft Clyde Logan, i love him so much your honour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedtoacertainlifestyle/pseuds/addictedtoacertainlifestyle
Summary: a small little thing prompted by my wife on tumblr. thought it should be here too, since it's been a while since i last updated.hopefully this will sate y'all until i finally write another chapter of shinedown or the long-awaited epilogue of letters to clyde? yeah? o(^▽^)o
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	lovely

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallMeHopeless (IAmNotBread)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotBread/gifts).



> a small little thing prompted by my wife on tumblr. thought it should be here too, since it's been a while since i last updated.
> 
> hopefully this will sate y'all until i finally write another chapter of shinedown or the long-awaited epilogue of letters to clyde? yeah? o(^▽^)o

It takes you a while to actually realise what’s going on.

During all the years that you’ve known him, Clyde has never stepped outside without a cap or an umbrella when it rains, which is fair enough. First you think it’s just because he’s protective of his hair - and who wouldn’t be, if they were blessed with the midnight mane of a lion like he is? Plus, you’re usually the one who forgets the umbrella and he has to share his with you; his meticulous ways have their perks.

He never wants to cut his hair, either. Even though you’ve mentioned more than once that he should give short hair a go, that he’d look very dashing. Every time declines, always just calls Mellie to snip off the ends every few months or so. Granted, you always end up being glad about it. 

But once you two get together, begin to gravitate towards one another and finally meet in the same orbit, you begin see and recognise his true intentions.

You’ve just arrived at his place after a long day of work, ready to pick him up for your date (”Please, Clyde, you always pick me up. Won’t you let me do the same for you, just once?”). He’s already given you a key to his trailer, which made you blush, the implications behind it - even if it said it was just for making your routine easier. You know what it means.

But that’s why you don’t have to wait, you can just let yourself in, kick off your shoes and follow the sound of rushing water to his bathroom’s closed door; he’s still in the shower. He turns it off just as you decide to step in.

Nothing you haven’t seen before, but _fuck_ \- it still takes you off guard, still makes you thank every god you can think of that you managed to score yourself a man who looks as good, as beautiful as he does. He just finishes wrapping a towel around his waist (a moment of silence for hiding one of his best features) as you peek inside.

“Hi, handsome.”

Clyde steps back, startled, suddenly shy. “Hiya. Didn’t… Didn’t think you’d come yet.”

“I know, but I got out early. Thought I’d surprise you.”

You step inside the bathroom, ready to wrap your arms around him and kiss him sweetly, maybe help him get dressed. But something in his stance makes you hesitate.

“You okay?” you ask, slowly stepping closer until you can lay a hand on his arm in a soothing gesture. 

“M’sorry, darlin’. You shouldn’t be seein’ me like this.”

“What do you mean?” 

Indeed, you cannot grasp what he’s trying to say. He looks perfectly fine to you - more than fine, always more than fine. His cheeks are flushed, his body radiating warmth, water dripping from the ends of his hair. But when he gestures upwards with his hand, it dawns on you. Everything makes sense. 

“Clyde… You can’t be serious.”

He shakes his head, averts his eyes as you hand comes up to brush back the wet hair behind his ears - that are now very much sticking out, with a faint tint of pink in the tips. Utterly adorable, syrupy-sweet. But he seems to think otherwise.

“Never was too fond of ‘em. Nobody else was, either. T’was why I grew the hair, y’know. It stopped the names.”

“Oh, Clyde, honey…” 

Your heart breaks, just a little bit, something akin to anger rearing its head in your chest. Towards anyone who made him feel like this, like there’s something he should be ashamed of.

“You know…” you start again, softly. “I think they’re lovely. You look very cute.”

He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle, his heart not really in it. “Never heard that one before.”

“But it’s so true,” you say with a smile, with words you’ve never meant more until now. “You’re cute, you’re lovely. So lovely.”

Now he’s definitely blushing, pink blooming on his cheeks and his ears, eyes teary in the bright light as he looks at you. You dig your hands in his wet hair and kiss him, relish in the low rumble of a moan he gives you in return as you rub and tug his ears, just a little, just to see if he likes it. 

And he very much does. _So lovely._


End file.
